Afternoon Between Mother and Son
by wbss21
Summary: There is a soft rap on her door, and Frigga looks up from her loom work, just as it comes open a crack, and she sees Loki put his head through, looking to her and smiling faintly.
**Afternoon Between Mother and Son**

There is a soft rap on her door, and Frigga looks up from her loom work, just as it comes open a crack, and she sees Loki put his head through, looking to her and smiling faintly.

She smiles back, as always when she sees her youngest child, a swell of warmth and pride stirring within her chest.

Her son has just reached his four-hundredth name day, and, she thinks, he is becoming such a handsome young man.

He is taller than her now, at last. By a good, few inches even. It had taken him a long time to grow to at all, longer still to attain such a height. Longer than most other children, but at last he had reached it. Still he remained a good deal below both his father's and Thor's heights, and still almost painfully thin, but there was time yet for him to grow more. He wasn't anywhere near the age of his majority, and Frigga always took pleasure in assuring him of this fact, of assuring him he would some day be a strong and fierce warrior, like his brother.

Some days, even, she thought Loki might believe her.

Those things, though, are hardly of a matter. Not when her boy is so very bright, so powerfully intelligent and talented and already coming near to her in prowess of magic.

Her beautiful, sweet boy, she thinks, as she gestures for him to enter her chambers, and watches as he pushes the door open fully, coming in, closing it softly behind him before turning and making his way towards her.

He's carrying a chess board in his arms, the soft, cloth bag containing the pieces held in his hand.

They'd held this ritual for a long while now. Loki had discovered the game during one of his extensive studies of the other realms, a Midgardian game of strategy and war, he'd explained to her when he first had brought it to her attention, explaining the rules.

Frigga had picked up on it quickly, much to Loki's delight. Her son had told her that he'd tried teaching Thor, but his brother had been useless at it, lacking the patience, and Odin had told Loki he simply didn't have the time for such things.

It hadn't escaped Frigga, the hurt in Loki's voice when she'd asked and he'd told her what her husband had said.

She'd been haranguing Odin lately about spending more time with Loki, trying to explain to him that their youngest son wanted desperately for it, that Loki was very unlike Thor, that he needed constant reassurance, constant reminders of their approval and love.

Odin had never really understood that about Loki. Had never really understood how to talk to the boy. He tried, she knew that, but was still frustrated with his seeming inability to make any kind of meaningful connection with his youngest. Odin, she knew also, had difficulty relating to Loki. To the way Loki preferred books over swords, preferred spending time indoors, studying and reading and learning, over adventuring and fighting and honing his combative skills. Had trouble identifying with Loki's lesser physicality. He had always been more like to Thor, or Thor was more like to him. Physically powerful and intimidating.

Loki still routinely lost matches in the training rings to other students, both older and younger than he.

She tries to put it from her mind now as she stands to greet her child, allowing Loki to place the board and bag down on the table before she goes to him and envelopes him in a hug.

She feels him put his arms around her, squeezing her back, burying his face against her shoulder.

"Hello Mother." He greets, smiling shyly as at last they pull apart, and she reaches up, cupping his face in her hands.

"How is my handsome son?" She asks in return, brushing a lock of his dark hair back behind his ear. "It feels like I've seen so little of you these past few days."

Loki's smile turns almost bashful, his eyes flitting to the floor.

"Forgive me Mother. I've been engrossed in my studies of late, I fear at the price of neglect towards you." He answers quietly, and Frigga smiles back at him, smoothing his hair back again, before patting him along the shoulders.

"Don't be silly." She says lightly. "You should do what pleases you. And beside all that, you're here now, yes?"

He looks up at her, his eyes bright and happy, a look, she thinks with sudden woe, that she's been seeing less and less of on him these days.

"We usually play, um..." he hesitates, thinking. Most likely to make certain he's gotten the time right.

"Indeed." She rescues him.

Loki has such a tendency to work himself into bouts of anxiety when he thinks he's somehow mistepped. He worries too much, she thinks. Is too fearful of what others might say or think. It isn't healthy, especially when her boy still finds himself so easily prone to illness, and his nervousness only makes him more susceptible.

"Come," she gestures towards the table.

Loki is only too excited to comply, quickly arranging the board and setting the pieces up along it.

"I've been practicing." He tells her, smiling sharply.

"Oh?" Frigga raises her brows at him, smiling back. "I certainly hope so. I expect more of a challenge than what I received last time from you."

Loki laughs lightly.

The truth was, her son was becoming more and more difficult to defeat at this. He'd never been an easy opponent. But the game was one of strategy and seeing ahead, and brilliant as Loki was, Frigga's experience had proved as yet an insurmountable advantage to him. He'd yet to defeat her.

It made her happy, though, to see it not discourage him. He didn't seem to mind losing to her.

At other moments, it hurt her heart, when she thought he was simply happy to have anyone to play with at all.

Loki had few, real friends.

When Frigga thinks on it, even, she can think of no one outside of Sif and the Warriors Three, and they were, she knew plainly, more Thor's friends, that they simply tolerated Loki for the fact of him being Thor's younger brother.

She tries to push the thoughts from her mind as, finally, Loki takes his seat opposite her.

As usual, he's set up her side with the white pieces, allowing her to make the first move.

She does, trying to relax, and simply enjoy the afternoon with her son.

/

"Check, my dear." She smiles softly at Loki, watching as her son's brow furrows, his hand rested against his mouth as he studies the board in earnest.

She lets him, not rushing him. He takes his time trying to decide his next move.

She doesn't really have the heart to tell him that, no matter what he does, she's going to have his king in five moves or less.

Minutes pass, and Loki still has yet to move a piece.

"Have you seen much of your brother today?" She finally asks conversationally.

Loki is well and truly distracted, not even seeming for several seconds to have heard her.

"Hmm?" He eventually starts, raising his eyes to her. "Pardon? I'm sorry."

Frigga smiles at him, shaking her head.

"No need. I simply asked if you'd seen much of your brother today?"

A vague frown pulls at the corners of her sons lips then, before his eyes slip away, back to the board, and he gives a weak shake of the head.

"... No." He answers after a moment. "I haven't seen Thor today." He reaches out and moves his king finally. "He went hunting, I think. With his friends."

Loki tries to maintain indifference in his voice, Frigga can tell, tries to sound uninterested. Still, she catches the hurt underneath it all.

Thor had gone off without him again. Likely, she knows, he hadn't even bothered asking Loki if he wished to join along.

Thor had been doing so more and more lately. Excluding his brother from his day to day activities.

Loki pretended not to care.

Frigga knew he cared deeply.

She's tried talking to Thor about it on a few occasions. Her eldest had attempted to excuse himself those times, giving the reason that either he had simply forgotten to ask, or that Loki wouldn't have enjoyed what he and his friends were doing anyway. Even, once, he had lied to her outright, telling her he _had_ asked, and Loki had rejected the offer.

She had given Thor a very serious undressing for that, and her eldest hadn't made the mistake again.

"Thor, you _must_ make the effort to include your brother. Please. He has so few friends. And you know how he looks up to you." She had said, and Thor had had the presence of mind to at least look ashamed.

"He gets so lonely sometimes." She had added.

Thor had promised then, next time he went out, to ask Loki along.

Clearly, that promise had been made ingenuously.

Thor was young, and prone towards yielding to the pressure of his peers. He loved his brother, of course. Frigga knew Thor would do anything for Loki. But she also knew he was concerned with his image, with his reputation. Knew also that Thor's companions were not precisely fond of Loki. That, in fact, they often bullied him, easy a target as he made, with how quiet, even shy he could be, not fitting in to the conventions of Asgard really at all.

She had seen the way they moaned and complained whenever Thor insisted on including Loki in their activities, speaking under their breaths about how weak the younger prince was, how surely he would slow them down, or hinder them in some other, irretrievable way.

It pained Frigga beyond words. Made her heart ache with sadness, whenever she would come across her youngest son, and he was almost always alone, holed up in some corner of the palace library, or sequestered away in his rooms.

He doesn't look up at her now, keeping his eyes fixed on the board.

"Loki," she says, reaching across to him, taking hold of his hand rested on the edge of the table.

He looks up at her, and she can see him trying to school his features into something flat and expressionless. Only he isn't quite able, a trembling line running through his upper lip, a deep furrow along his brow before he's able to push it completely away.

Frigga struggles to keep her own face even.

"Are you alright?" She asks, squeezing his hand in hers. His skin is, as always, so cool and dry, and she's reminded, once more, of who he really is, a swell of guilt and concern warring inside her, as it does every time she's reminded.

She needs to tell him, she thinks. She and Odin both. They need to. Before something terrible comes from it.

Each year that passes without them doing so, and a kind of dread has begun to take hold of her now. Loki struggles so much with believing in himself, with believing that others can find in him something of worth. Struggles so much with fitting in.

The longer they wait to tell him the truth, the more devastating the truth will be to him, she fears.

He forces himself to smile back at her now, strained and weak.

"Of course." He tells her.

Frigga cannot make herself believe it. Not when she knows it isn't true.

"... You can talk to me, you know." She tells him. "About anything."

Loki stares back at her then for long seconds, silent, and she can't tell what he's thinking. His eyes are so deep, some kind of emotion sitting in them which she can't discern, bright and alive and painful.

And then he smiles again, and it hurts to look at. He pulls her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly.

"It's your move Mother." He says to her.

Frigga forces herself to smile in return, her eyes burning uncomfortably as she nods.

"Yes." She says. "Indeed."

And she returns her attention to the game, trying to focus, to push the worry churning in her stomach away.

/

Loki still ends up losing to her, seeing the inevitability of it himself and simply yielding the game.

"Sorry." She tells him sincerely. She hates besting Loki sometimes. There are so few chances it seems for him to show off his talents, so few opportunities for him to best anyone, when most challenges on Asgard come in the form of something physical. She'd tried letting him win once, but Loki had caught on to that almost immediately, and asked her not to.

Still, he doesn't seem bothered, and she can't help but feel relief at it.

He smiles, shaking his head.

"It's alright." He tells her. "Perhaps one day I'll prove good enough to at least challenge you."

"You present plenty a challenge for me already Loki." She tells him seriously. "Don't ever think it a simple task for me to beat you."

His smile broadens, and he leans over the board, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"You are kind Mother." He tells her quietly. "Thank you."

She reaches out, cupping his cheek in her palm and smiling back.

"Do you care to join me and your father for lunch today?" She asks, hopeful.

Loki seems to hesitate a moment, a look something like regret passing over his features, mingled, strangely, with worry.

"I can't." He at last says. "Forgive me. I... have some business to attend to which I can't... a... a previous engagement, you see, and..."

Frigga moves her fingers to her sons lips, hushing him softly.

"It's alright Loki." She assures him, and watches as his shoulders sag in relief.

It upsets her, and makes her feel a sort of vague discomfort, to see him so anxious, that he would even lose his normally beautiful articulation, reduced to stammering in his hast to explain away his own decisions in how he spent his time.

"We'll see you for dinner perhaps?" She ventures, pushing his hair behind his ears.

He grins at her, bright and lovely, reaching up and taking gentle hold of her wrists, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing them.

"You have my word." He tells her. "Until this evening then."

He leans down, giving her one more kiss along the cheek, before straightening. He gathers up the chess board and pieces, makes a light jest about needing to practice more, and then he's off.

Frigga watches him go, only turning away, back to her work, when he's closed the door behind him.

As always, whenever her son leaves her, she finds herself missing him already.


End file.
